


Heart as Loud as Lions

by maepatrick



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Football, Football Player Harry, Football Player Liam, Football Player Louis, Football Player Niall, Football Player Zayn, Football | Soccer, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:58:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maepatrick/pseuds/maepatrick
Summary: Another footballAU. All the boys play for Man U. Harry and Louis fall in love. Other things happen as well.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so be gentle please.  
> Obviously this is all made up etc. etc.
> 
>  
> 
> Title is from Read All About It pt. iii by Emeli Sandé

Louis frowned at his breakfast, plain oatmeal cut with a bit of peanut butter for protein, as excited as he was for football to start back up, he was less than thrilled about the return to strict diets. 

Zayn looked at him from across their kitchen table, the same look of disgust on his face, “Mate, this is awful.” 

Louis narrowed his eyes into a glare, “Look Malik, I won’t have you insulting me cooking.” 

Zayn arched his brow, “Wouldn’t exactly call this cooking, you added water and put it in the microwave.” 

Louis shrugged, “It’s more than you did. Besides, Coach will have our arses if we keep eating cocoa puffs every morning.” 

Zayn rolled his eyes, “He’d only kill you. If you do your job it doesn’t matter how much weight I put on.”

Louis laughed, “We can’t all be goalkeepers Malik, some of us have to work.” 

They suffered through the rest of their porridge with minimal ribbing, finally making it out of the house only a little later than acceptable, which for them, was pretty good.

Louis and Zayn had met playing in Manchester United’s under-18’s and had been friends and roommates ever since. Louis always joked that they never had any conflict because they played on opposite ends of the field so they only ever saw each other at home, but realistically Zayn was simply the most laid back person Louis had ever met and they quickly bonded over their shared love of spending the off-season lounging, eating crappy food, and getting high. They were both promoted up to the first-team last season and despite the pay raise, never even considered living alone. 

When they finally arrived at the training compound, late, Coach Corden only gave them a short,  “Tomlinson, Malik, lovely of you boys to join us,” before continuing on in addressing the rest of the team, “As I was saying, we have a couple of new faces with us this season, I’m looking forward to getting you guys into drills, figuring out who works best together, and sorting out our starting line up. So let’s get some warm ups started!” 

Louis joined the rest of the team in warm ups, breaking a sweat far earlier than he would have in peak shape. 

“A little out of practice eh Tommo?” Niall Horan joked, the blonde was grinning widely as he did his toe taps next to Louis.   
Louis huffed out a breathless laugh, “Fuck off, Irish.” 

Finally,  _ finally _ , Corden called them back from drills and split them up for a scrimmage, Louis was panting a bit harder than he was proud of, but he’d managed to complete all the drills without passing out or vomiting, so all considered he was proud of himself. 

“Alright boys,” Corden called, clipboard in hand, “Team A we’re going to have Malik in goal, Horan, Shaw and Jones full backs. Let me see, Payne let’s put you in left wing-back, we’ll have Young in as right wing-back,” Louis looked around, Payne was new, short brown hair and an innocent face, “Tomlinson,” Corden called, “take center mid, James you’re on the right mid, Herrera left mid,” Louis arched his brow, if Corden had him on the same practice team as Greg James, the captain, there was a good chance he was being vetted as a starter, “Alright, for strikers give me Grimshaw and let’s give Styles a try.” Another new face, Louis noted, Styles was tall, though a little shorter than Grimshaw, United’s current starting striker, he had a baby face that dimpled when Grimshaw high-fived him. His hair was long, pulled up into a bun on top of his head, and he was objectively gorgeous which was going to be an issue for Louis. Louis spent most days surrounded by fit men, he lived with Zayn Malik and his modelesque cheekbones for god’s sake, so he liked to think he had developed pretty good self control. It helped that once he got to know his teammates they all secured themselves pretty quickly as strictly platonic interests, even the one’s he liked, enough time on the pitch together made them brothers, and Louis was not interested in making out with his brothers. This one though, well all Louis could hope is that his personality was bad enough to negate how badly Louis wanted to climb him like a tree. 

They jogged towards their goal as a group, as they did Styles lifted his fist in the air and called, “Alright, the A-Team, get in!” 

Louis snorted, and Styles turned his bright green eyes toward him, grin dimpling, “Admit it Tomlinson, we’re the A-Team, Greg’s our Hannibal, we best get behind him.”

Louis laughed, “Does that make you Faceman?” 

Harry shook his head, “Nah, ‘m Murdock, you though,  _ you’re _ Faceman.” 

Louis willed his cheeks not to heat up, “Whatever Murdock, just try to keep up on the pitch.” 

It felt incredible to be back on the pitch, Louis loved the feel of his cleats digging into the grass as he ran, the stretch of his calves as he passed the ball up field, it was his happy place. Despite being out of shape and out of practice, the scrimmage ran more smoothly than he could have hoped for, Malik and Horan were a steel wall as usual, Payne turned out to be an incredible asset on the wings, pushing the ball up masterfully, it was always incredible playing alongside Greg who had stamina like Louis had never seen, and Styles, despite his cheesy American media references and dimples, was an impressive striker, always able to get a handle on the ball, even when Louis was passing into high coverage. They won the scrimmage easily, Team B (or Plan-B as Styles insisted on calling them) not managing a single shot on goal. 

“Way to go Faceman!” Styles shouted as the scrimmage ended, wrapping his long arms around Louis’ shoulders and lifting him into a spinning hug.  
Louis laughed, “Alright Murdock, put me down!” 

Styles obliged, grinning widely, “Honestly Tomlinson, great game.” 

“You weren’t so bad yourself, kid.”

 

Corden pulled Louis aside as practice ended, Louis fidgeted nervously as he stood to the side as the rest of the team made their way to the locker room. Once the pitch was empty, Corden clapped him on the shoulder, “You were great out there today Tomlinson.” 

“Thanks Coach.”  
  
“Listen, I don’t need you to go spreading this around, but Greg’s already let the club know that it’s his intention to retire after this season.” 

“What?” Louis was shocked, sure Greg had been around for awhile, but he wasn’t ancient by any means, Beckham had played for years longer than Greg had. 

Corden’s lips quirked into a short smile, “I was a little surprised as well, but he got married last year and he wants to do the family man thing. Which is great for him, but unfortunately that means my midfield is losing its engine. I want you to step up. Your passing and off-ball ability is excellent, but most importantly you’ve got vision Tomlinson, I can see it when you play, you  _ see _ the whole game, you’re sharp, and that’s what I need in a playmaker. I’d like to make you a fixture in my midfield this year, mainly playing in center midfield as an attacking position, but I need to see that you’re up for the challenge. That means you’re on time to practice, you follow the meal plan to the letter, and you need to work closely with the rest of the team. Your scrimmage team today, that’s my tentative starting line-up, you need to be seamless, you need to know their strengths and weaknesses inside and out. Understood?” 

Louis was shocked, which is maybe why instead of answering like a normal person he grinned goofily and saluted, “Yes sir.” 

Luckily, Corden had a good sense of humor, he saluted back, “At ease, now go shower Tommo, you smell like death.” 

 

Louis stepped out of the shower, towel tied around his waist, he made his way back into the locker room to find Zayn and a few other team members standing near his locker,  “Oi, boys, what’s with the party?” 

Zayn turned around, “Get dressed Tommo, Horan has invited himself and about half the team over to our place.” 

Louis laughed, “Gee Niall, thanks for inviting everyone to our place, is your flat being fumigated?” 

Niall laughed, “Nah, your place is just better, plus I don’t have to worry about clean up at your place.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “How nice for you.” 

Despite his snark he did go ahead and get dressed, he loved Niall, and he loved the rest of his boys, they were welcome over whenever they wanted.   
As they were leaving Zayn grabbed Louis by the arm, “Lou, we may need to make a quick trip to the shops, we purged all our booze and junk food last week and well, that was pretty much all we had in the flat.” 

Louis groaned, “You’re right, but we drove together, are we going to take half the team on a trip to the shop?” 

“I’m up for a Tesco’s run,” Styles offered, coming up behind them. His hair was still damp from the shower and holy shit he had curls. Louis was officially fucked. 

Zayn grinned, “Great, you can ride with Styles to the store, I’ll head back to the flat and let the guys in. See you at home!” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Great.” 

“Heeeey,” Styles drawled, “I’m a great shopping buddy, you should be thrilled.” 

Louis grinned, “Of course you are Curly, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” 

Louis may have been imagining it, but he thought he saw Styles’ cheeks go pink before he responded, “You know I do have a name.” 

“Of course you do Curly. If you’d like I’ll call you by your full given name, Murdock Curly Styles.” 

Styles let out a loud bark of a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth, “Close,” he finally manages, “it’s Harry.” 

“Pleasure to meet you Harold.”

“Harry.”

“That’s what I said.”

 

As it turned out, Harry was a great shopping buddy, he was organized, focused, he even remembered to grab a cart when they entered the store, unlike Louis who usually forgot until his arms were full and he had to make his way back to the front of the store in defeat. 

Louis however was not content to have an efficient and uneventful shopping trip, there was just no fun in that. 

As a result he spent most of the trip trying to find the most ridiculous/embarrassing items in the store and sneak them into the cart.   
Harry managed to catch the suggestively shaped zucchini, the bulk size tub of lube, and the pack of adult diapers. Yet, Louis had managed to hide a couple different boxes of magnum condoms in the cart. Watching Harry bluster each time he found another one amongst the groceries was the best thing he’d ever seen. 

When Harry grabbed the first box he’d flashed the cashier a charming smile and said, “Must’ve fallen in.” 

He’d set them aside and continued to unload the groceries, then the second box emerged, he shot Louis a look before chuckling, “Woops.” 

“I can ring them up for you,” the cashier had offered, “Really you don’t need to be embarrassed, you’re a cute couple.”

Harry’s face turned bright red, “No, no really, I don’t know where these came from.”

Three boxes later and Louis wasn’t sure if Harry would ever recover. 

When they finally made their way out of the store Louis burst out laughing, “That was absolutely incredible! You should have seen your face, mate!”

Harry pushed out his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout, “I can’t believe you’d do that do me Faceman, I thought we had something special.” 

Louis grinned, “Murdock doesn’t whine, Harold.”

“He does when he’d been unfairly abused, and it’s Harry.”

“That’s what I said.”

 

When they finally got back to his flat, Louis found Zayn and Liam Payne teaming up to absolutely destroy Niall and Nick Grimshaw in FIFA. 

“Is this it?” Louis asked, “why’d I go out and buy enough food to feed thirty people if it's just you four?”

“Because Niall’s here.” Zayn answered, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

“Fair enough.” 

“Lou, where’s your blender?” Harry called from the kitchen. 

Louis tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his gut at the new nickname, “Oi Curly, what do you want with me blender?” 

In the kitchen he finds Harry surrounded by half emptied grocery bags, “‘M making smoothies.” 

Louis reached up on his tiptoes to pull the blender out of the cupboard, “Fair enough, I love a good smoothie.”

Harry grinned, “Good, now get out of my kitchen.”

“Excuse you Harold, this is my kitchen.”

“Do you want to make the smoothies then?”

“Alright, alright, no need to make threats, I’m going.” 

When Harry finally re-entered the living room his arms were full of glasses filled with smoothie, green smoothie. 

“The fuck is that Curly?”

“Smoothies.”

“No,” Louis argued, “Smoothies aren’t green, they’re pink, or orange, or anything but green, and they have fruit and sugar in them.” 

“This has fruit in it.” Harry countered. 

“It’s green.” 

“Correct Lou, it  _ is  _ green.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, holding Harry’s gaze, challenging him to continue this ridiculous insistence that this green nonsense was actually a smoothie. 

“Ooh smoothies, gimme!” Niall shouted, dropping the controller mid game and jogging over. 

“Careful Horan,” Louis warned, “I know it's in your blood to trust anything green, but there’s nothing Irish about these smoothies.” 

“Fuck off, Tommo” Niall intoned, grabbing a smoothie gleefully. 

Despite his warnings, soon all the guys had a smoothie in hand, Grimshaw had even wrapped his lanky arm around Harry’s shoulder and proclaimed, “You mate, are the best smoothie maker I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, you should quit football and become a professional smoothie maker.”

Harry preened under the compliments and Louis frowned, Grimshaw was such a suck up. Thankfully it wasn’t too long before Harry slipped Grimmy’s hold and squeezed onto the couch next to Louis, holding the smoothie in front of his face, “C’mon Faceman, I made it special, just for you.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Tell me what’s in it first.” 

Harry’s lips quirked into a small smile, “Watermelon.”

“And?”

“Apples.”

“And?” 

“Ice.” 

“Why’s it fuckin’ green then Curly?”  
  
Harry frowned, “Just drink it.” 

“Not until I know what’s in it. What if I’m allergic to something you put in there?”

“Do you have any allergies?”

“No.”

“Drink it.”

“Fuck you’re annoying,” Louis sighed, grabbing the glass and taking a gulp, “fuck, and of course it’s delicious, that’s even more annoying.”  
  
Harry’s whole face lit up in a grin, “You like it?”

“Don’t rub it in.”

Harry grinned harder, dimples digging into his cheeks, he leaned forward so that he could whisper into Louis’ ear, his curls tickling at Louis’ cheek as he spoke, “Spinach, avocado, and mint.” 

Louis could feel his heart beating in his ears, “What?”

“Spinach, avocado, and mint,” Harry repeated, slower this time, more deliberate, “that’s why it’s green.”

Louis felt the air whoosh out of him as he realized what Harry was saying, “You dick!” he cried, reaching out to smack Harry in the stomach, trying not to focus on the abs he very solidly collided with. 

“Lou!” Zayn called, “You up for FIFA? I’m actually getting tired of beating these two, it’s just getting sad.” 

“Sure,” Louis agreed, he looked over at Harry, “What do you say Curly, partners?”

Harry grinned, “I’d be honored.”

He and Harry effectively destroyed Zayn and Niall’s win streak, they did so to a chorus of cheers from Liam and Nick, both of whom were thrilled to see Zayn and Niall’s reign of terror end. After their fourth straight loss, Zayn tossed his remote on the ground, “Alright, I concede, just stop, for the love of god, stop.”

Louis grinned, high-fiving Harry, “Dream Team for the win! I hope you’ll all think twice before you try to take on Harold and I again.”

Harry grinned, “Louis, it’s Harry.”

Louis smiled back, “I know, that’s what I said.”

 

The boys all stayed late enough that they managed to convince Harry to cook them all dinner. He made some sort of stir-fry that was not only the most delicious thing Louis had ever tasted, but it also met the team’s meal plan requirements perfectly. 

“I swear yer a wizard Harry,” Louis insisted around bites, “no one should be able to make food that’s this healthy  _ and  _ this delicous.” 

Harry flushed bright red, “C’mon, ‘s not that impressive.”

Zayn shook his head, “No really, it is, during the season everything Lou and I eat tastes like cardboard and sawdust.”

Harry looked aghast, “You can’t be serious!” 

Louis gave him a somber nod, “Scout’s honor. I can’t cook regular food for shit, much less health food. This morning we had plain porridge and peanut butter.”

The look on Harry’s face was heartbroken, “You can’t live like that,” he insisted, “I feel like I have a moral responsibility to help end your suffering.”

Louis grinned, “Great, because we are in the market for a live-in chef that sleeps on our couch, doesn’t collect a salary, and still prepares all our meals.” 

Harry barked out a laugh, “How have you not yet filled that position?” 

Louis shrugged, “It’s yours if you want it Curly.” 

 

Harry didn’t take the job, though the boys were over late enough that Zayn and Louis insisted they crash at their flat. 

“It’s too late for you guys to be on the road, besides we’ve got a spare bedroom and a pull out couch that don’t get nearly enough use,” Zayn insisted.

“Alright mummy, no need to fret, we’ll stay,” Nick agreed with a grin. 

“Only if you’re sure we aren’t imposing,” Liam insisted.

“Oi you’ve figured us out Payno,” Louis mocked, “we asked you to stay over because we  _ didn’t  _ want you to.” 

Liam flushed and Zayn glared at Louis, “Leave ‘im alone Tommo. Don’t listen to ‘im Liam, he just doesn’t know how to communicate politely.” 

Louis flipped Zayn off and turned to Harry, “C’mon Murdock, are you just going to let them speak to me this way?”

Harry grinned, “Oh no, ‘m not gettin’ involved in this one.” 

“Whatever,” Niall chimed in from the couch, “All I know is that I call the actual bed.”

“Unfair, Horan,” Grimshaw complained, “You should respect your elders.”

Niall shrugged, “Too bad, I called dibs, and I’m not sharing with you or Harry, you’re too damned leggy for your own good and I need a full night's sleep. Payno can bunk with me tonight.”

Grimshaw grinned at Harry, “Guess us leggy blokes ‘ll just have to share the pull out.” 

Louis did his best to ignore the sharp twist of distaste in his gut at that and pulled an exaggerated yawn, “Well, if you’re all sorted I think I’ll head off to bed myself. Goodnight boys.” 

Back in the safety of his room he buried his face in his hands and let out a groan, he was beyond fucked, Harry Styles and his curls had been genetically designed in a lab somewhere to cause his death, he was sure of it.  
  
  


Louis woke the next morning to a decidedly Irish voice on the other side of his door shouting, “Wake up Tommo! There’s food!”

The sleep wore off slowly as Louis pulled himself from his bed. He had just enough sense to pull on a pair of trackies before he wandered out of his room to join the rest of the guys. 

If it was strange to see Nick Grimshaw sitting at his kitchen table and squabbling over bacon with Niall and Liam, then it was truly bizarre to walk into his kitchen and find Harry Styles, wearing the apron Louis had been given one Christmas as a gag gift, making pancakes. 

“Good morning!” Harry chirped brightly, looking every bit the picture of domestic tranquility, more at home in Louis’ kitchen than Louis or Zayn had ever been. 

Louis on the other hand had yet to have his tea and could hardly muster more than a grunt.

Harry, the absolute angel that he was, passed Louis a cup of hot tea, “Here, Zayn told me how you take it, two sugars, no milk.”

“Ta love,” Louis managed, voice still thick with sleep. 

Harry smirked, “I think I might like morning Louis best, he’s quiet.” 

Zayn laughed, “For now, morning Louis is quickly replaced by after tea morning Louis, he has none of the previous Louis’ silence but all of his anger.” 

Louis flipped them both off and took a sip of his tea, it was perfect. Of course, Harry Styles was tall, attractive, a great cook,  _ and _ he made a damn good cup of tea. A few more sips of tea and the fog of sleep was finally clearing from Louis’ mind. 

“Are you trying to get us all chewed out by Coach?” He asked, gesturing at the pancakes Harry was still lovingly flipping. 

Harry grinned, his cheeks dimpling, “These are _protein_ pancakes, silly.”  
  
Louis rolled his eyes, “Bullshit Curly, you can’t make pancakes healthy.” 

“Maybe  _ you _ can’t,” Harry countered, “now go sit at the table with the rest of the boys, I’ll be done in a mo.” 

Louis furrowed his brow, “You just want to get rid of me so I don’t see you add the six cups of sugar and butter you’re going to have to add to the batter to make this nonsense edible.”

Harry barked out a laugh, “Fine, stay, but you’re going to be sorely disappointed if you’re waiting for a tub of butter to show up.” 

Louis hopped up on the counter, “We’ll just see won’t we?” 

Unfortunately, Harry finished the pancakes without an ounce of butter or sugar. He raised his brows triumphantly at Louis. 

“Alright Curly, let’s see how they taste before you go throwin’ yerself a parade.” 

Of course, they were fucking delicious. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated!  
> Really wasn't sure if I was going to continue this fic or not, but apparently I am, at least for another chapter.  
> Enjoy!

Louis usually loved the preseason, the conditioning was shit, but the friendlies, the travel, those were always a blast. This year however, he was having a much harder time enjoying the ride. Corden’s expectations were always at the back of his mind, not to mention all the mental effort it took him not to jump Harry every time he saw him. He had at least accomplished one of Corden’s goals, he knew his team backwards and forwards, or at least, he knew Harry backwards and forwards. He could tell by the stress in Harry’s brow whether or not he’d be able to sink the shot if Louis passed it up, he could tell by the tension in Harry’s shoulder whether or not he was going to cross it over to Nick or kick it back to the midfield, and he could tell by his dimples whether or not Harry was _really_ smiling or just being polite, though that last one probably wasn’t particularly useful on the pitch. Now, he was facing eight days in China with the team for their preseason tour and he wasn’t nearly as thrilled as he should have been.

As he and Zayn joined the team at the airport, Harry spotted them immediately, waving dramatically and jogging over, a wide grin plastered on his face, “Lou! Zayn! Are you guys excited for China?”

Zayn went a bit green in the face and walked away.

Harry frowned, “What’d I say?”

Louis laughed, “Oh Zayn just hates flying.”

“Really?” Harry asked, “Why?”

Louis shrugged, “I mean, before we started playing for Man U he’d never even been on a plane, so I think it started as a fear of the unknown. The lasting fear may have something to do with the fact that the first time he flew I convinced him the plane was going to do a loop-de-loop upon take off. He spent the first twenty minutes of the flight white-knuckling the arm rest before he realized it wasn’t going to happen.”

Harry barked out a laugh, slapping his hand over his mouth in surprise, “That’s awful!”

“I for one think that Zayn’s long term phobia and anxiety is a small price to pay for such an incredible prank,” Louis argued.

Harry shook his head, “You’re awful, Faceman, the worst travel buddy ever.”

Despite those fighting words, when it came time to board the plane Harry sidled right up to Louis, bumping their shoulders together, “Wanna sit together?”

Louis grinned, “Alright Curly, but I call the window seat.”

“Fair enough.”

As it turned out, Harry refused to take advantage of his aisle seat to stretch his overly long legs, “That’s just rude Lou, people have to walk through the aisle,” and instead insisted on draping his legs across Louis personal space.

“Yes Curly, reducing me to an ottoman is much less rude, when is your novel on etiquette coming out again?”

“After my cookbook,” Harry answered solemnly, “I don’t want them to have to compete for the #1 spot on the bestsellers list.”

“Smart.”

Louis struggled to keep his eyes focused ahead. The whole team was wearing the same red Man U shirt, but somehow Harry made it look sinful, his curls were loose and Louis was not a strong enough man to keep from occasionally twisting a lock or two through his fingers (the resulting purr from Harry was nearly enough to kill him). Unfortunately, he had a twelve hour flight to endure, and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. In a last ditch effort to find something to look at other than Harry’s stupidly attractive face, Louis pulled his laptop from his bag, “What do you say Murdock, would you like to be inducted into my flight club?”

Harry beamed, “I would love too, are there rules? Do I get to punch someone?”

Louis shook his head, “First rule of flight club, don’t punch anyone or the air marshall _will_ tackle you to the ground.”

“Got it.”

Louis fired up his laptop and pulled his headphones out of his bag, “Every major flight since Zayn and I started playing footie has featured the following movie marathon.”

Louis pulled up the first film and Harry burst out laughing, “Con Air? Is this a whole playlist of plane crash movies?”

Louis grinned, “Maybe.”

Harry took one of the earbuds and shook his head, “No wonder Zayn hates flying, you’re a menace.”

“Second rule of flight club, don’t insult flight club’s founder and current president.”

In the end they made it through Con Air, Castaway, and Final Destination before Louis fell asleep.

He woke up to Harry attempting to shift out from under him, Harry grinned sheepishly when he saw Louis’ eyes open, “Sorry sleeping beauty, ‘ve gotta wee, been holding it for about three hours now.”

Louis was too groggy to do much more than groan as Harry slipped away. However, Louis was wide awake by the time Harry returned.

“I am _not_ sleeping beauty, by the way.” Louis informed him as Harry slid back into his seat.

“No?” Harry grinned, “Which princess are you then?”

Louis scoffed, “I’m not a princess at all, you’re the one with the curls.”

“Alright, if you’re not a princess then you’re Peter Pan,” Harry countered.

Louis rolled his eyes, “Then you’re Rapunzel.”

Harry grinned and offered up his hand for a shake, “Deal.”

Louis took his hand, he felt ridiculous and he was definitely not at all affected by how small his hand felt in Harry’s. Louis cleared his throat and removed his hand, “So, big Disney fan then?”

Harry shrugged, “Isn’t everyone? My sister and I used to absolutely lose it if we didn’t watch at least one Disney movie a day.”

“Used to?”

“Still do.”

Louis laughed, “My sisters were the same way, the worst was the repetitive phase. I swear my freshman year of high school was completely defined by Daisy and Phoebe watching 101 Dalmations at least three times a day.”

“How old were they?”

“Like three, but there were two of them so it was easier to say yes than to deal with twin tantrums.”

“Wow that’s a big age difference,” Harry said, “my sister Gemma is four years older than me, I’ve always been the baby.”

Louis laughed, “I can tell.”

“Heeeeyyy.”

Louis shrugged, “I’m the oldest, we can detect a youngest sibling from miles away, you always stink of having been coddled and sheltered.”

Harry’s cheeks dimpled at that, “I’m going to ignore that horrible lie because I know that oldest siblings always think they’re right and there’s no point in arguing.”

“Good boy.”

“So are they your only siblings? Daisy and Phoebe?”

Louis laughed, “Not even close. I’ve got six younger siblings.”

“SIX?”

“Six,” Louis confirmed, “Five sisters, one brother. Lottie’s eighteen, Fizzy’s sixteen, then Daisy and Phoebe are twelve, and most recently Doris and Ernie, they’ve just turned two.”

Harry looked shellshocked until Louis mentioned Doris and Ernie, then his face transformed, his eyes lit up and his mouth seemed to instinctively form an ‘awww’ before he spoke, “Two year old twins? Are they adorable? They must be adorable, do you have pictures?”

“Wow Curly, never would have pegged you as a sucker for babies,” Louis chuckled, “but luckily for you, so am I and my computer is literally full of pictures.”

Harry spent the rest of the flight leaning on Louis’ shoulder and cooing at baby pictures, and Louis spent the rest of the flight convincing himself that it was inappropriate to suddenly propose to your platonic friend and teammate in the middle of an international flight.

  


Once they landed in Shanghai and arrived at their hotel Louis finally got some distance from what he’d begun to call ‘The Harry Problem’.

Corden had preselected roommates for the team, Louis was definitely less than thrilled when Corden called “Styles and Grimshaw Room 203” and Grimshaw put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and escorted him off, but at least sharing a room with Payne was sure to be free of sexual tension.

“C’mon Payno,” Louis instructed once he’d grabbed their room keys from Corden, “try to keep up now.”

As it turned out, Payne was exactly the kind of roommate Louis needed. Right after they put their things away, Liam started pulling workout clothes from his suitcase, “I’m heading down to the gym if you want to join.”

The gym was the last place Louis wanted to go, he wanted to go find Harry and pull him away from Grimshaw, but that would be obsessive and unhealthy, so instead he shot Liam a grin, “Sure thing Payno.”

They weren’t the only ones who’d thought to get in a little extra conditioning, Greg James was already a mile in on the treadmill when they arrived, “Hey lads,” Greg greeted them as they entered the gym.

Louis gave his captain a nod before getting on a treadmill himself, being in the gym more than necessary was bad enough on its own, no need to add small talk to the mix, besides, he’d had trouble talking to Greg since Corden told him about Greg’s retirement plan. Louis wasn’t sure if Greg knew that he knew, and as much as Louis loved watching Friends, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be living one of his favorite episodes.

Greg and Liam had a long conversation about their favorite protein powder and Louis slipped his headphones in. It took far longer than Louis would have liked before Liam finally called it quits, it seemed the longer he ran the stronger Liam got, Louis on the other hand felt close to death.

“You’re a machine Payno.” Louis laughed as they left the gym.

Liam shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Louis shook his head, “Whatever mate, I call first shower.”

After his shower, the work out and the jet lag caught up to him, before Louis knew it he was succumbing to sleep.

 

 

Louis knew Borussia Dortmund was going to be a tough team, he knew they’d had three weeks of training on Man U, he knew this game didn’t even matter, he knew that all Corden was expecting from their team today was to gel together and show they could operate as a team. No one was expecting a win, it still didn’t make it easier to watch goal after goal make it past Zayn’s outstretched hands.

He didn’t even react when Dortmund scored their first goal barely twenty minutes in, just shot Zayn a thumbs up from downfield and kept running. And when they finished the half down two he was only mildly annoyed, no one enjoys losing, but Corden didn’t seem to concerned so Louis kept smiling. Harry on the other hand looked a little worse for the wear, the poor kid had put countless shots on goal only to come away with nothing time and time again.

Louis clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a grin, “Turn that frown upside down Curly, just enjoy getting to lose a game that nothing is riding on.”

Harry gave him a small smile in response, “Yeah, ‘course.”

Louis knew him well enough not to believe a smile from Harry that didn’t cause at least one of his dimples to make an appearance, but he didn’t have any time to address it before they had to be back out on the pitch.

They’d only been back out for about ten minutes when Dortmund scored again. There was a small grimace playing on Zayn’s lips as yet another ball passed through his hands, but it was nothing compared to the way Harry’s face seemed to crumple. As the ball came back up field Louis was determined, he was going to give Harry a goal. He managed to get the ball up the pitch and he found Harry sitting in perfect scoring position, Louis passed it up and Harry took possession easily. He was going to score. Then Louis watched as Harry’s posture shifted and he crossed the ball to Nick who sunk it easily into the net. The team cheered around him but all Louis managed was a confused look in Harry’s direction. Harry could have made that shot, he was in a much better position that Nick had been for sure, that’s why Louis had passed to _Harry._ Dortmund scored another goal before the game was over and Louis hardly noticed.

And finally when the ref blew the final whistle and the team made their way off the field he was able to catch up to Harry, “Hey, Murdock, why didn’t you take that shot?”

Harry shrugged, ignoring Louis’ gaze, “Just thought Nick had a better shot.”

“Bullshit, you and I both know you had a perfect shot,” Louis reached out for Harry’s arm, struggling to keep up with his longer strides.

Harry shook him off, spinning around, face red and puffy, “Maybe I just didn’t want to fuck up _again_ Louis. Leave me alone.”

And then he was gone, Harry made it in and out of the showers before Louis had even made it into the locker room, by the time Louis was getting on the bus Harry was already sitting in the back with Grimmy, no empty seats to be found. Louis begrudgingly took a seat next to Zayn, which, as it turned out, was a huge mistake.

“You’re pouting,” Zayn observed.

“Am not.”

“Are too, and it’s not about the game, which you and I both know was meaningless, which means it’s about Harry.”

Louis scoffed, “I’m not pouting, and if I were it wouldn’t be about Harry.”

“Please,” Zayn rolled his eyes, “I’ve known you for years and I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t need the details, just fix it. I was really starting to get used to Happy Louis, I am not prepared to deal with Sad Louis all season.”

“Fuck off, Malik.”

Despite his initial response, by the time the van pulled up at the hotel Louis was forming a plan. While the rest of the team made their way back into the hotel, Louis darted across the street. There weren’t many stores but Louis managed to find a couple pints of low fat ice cream and some discounted dvd’s.

Sufficiently pleased with his findings he called Liam, “Payno, I need a favor, no questions asked.”

“Uh, sure Louis, what’s up?”

Louis loved Liam Payne, “I need you to need to get Grimmy out of his hotel room.”

“Okay, uh, how?”

“Take him out for a drink to celebrate his goal, offer him a blowie, invent an emergency, I don’t care Payno, just get him out of his room.”

“I don’t drink, I only have one kidney.”

Louis hated Liam Payne, “Well then fuck Payno I hope you suck a good dick, get it done.”

He hung up then, making his way back across the street to the hotel, when he finally arrived at Harry’s hotel room he could only hope that Liam had come through.

He wrapped his knuckles on the door and waited, and waited, and waited, until finally he shouted, “C’mon Curly, I know yer in there!”

And finally, the door opened, Harry’s eyes were still watery and puffy, his curls were falling loose down to his shoulders, and he was wearing trackies and a soft violet jumper, “What do you want? To make me feel worse about fucking up the game?”

Louis rolled his eyes, shouldering his way into the room, “Come off it Haz, you and I both know that you didn’t fuck up the game, not that this game mattered anyway. Dortmund had weeks of prep on us, we never intended to win that game. The only mistake you made all game was passing a sure shot to Grimshaw, and the only reason you made that mistake was because you didn’t believe in yourself, and it was my fault for not catching it, I’m your friend and your playmaker and it’s my job to take care of my team. I wasn’t there for you on the pitch today, but I’m here now,  and I brought low-fat ice cream and discount rom coms.”

Harry sniffled, but his lips twitched into a small smile, “Ice cream isn’t on Corden’s approved diet.”

Louis grinned, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

They ended up shoulder to shoulder on Harry’s bed watching what had to be the worst rom com Louis had ever witnessed.   
“At least it has Freddie Prinze Jr.” Harry hedged around a bite of ice cream.

“Even Freddie can’t redeem this script, Murdock.”

Harry grinned, his head falling onto Louis’ shoulder, “Yeah, but your running commentary is definitely improving the experience.”

Louis could feel his face heating up, and he resisted the urge to rest his own head atop Harry’s, “Yeah well, I do love to hear myself talk.”

“Well I love to hear you talk too, Faceman.”

Louis’ heart thudded in his chest, was it just him or did it sound like maybe, just maybe, his crush wasn’t as hopeless and unrequited as he’d previously believed. He leaned forward, jostling Harry to the point that he lifted his head up, turning to face him.

“Hey, Styles,” Louis started, “I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” Harry breathed, his face close enough to Louis’ that he could see each individual shade of green in his eyes.

Louis took a deep steadying breath to compose himself, a calming insistent mantra repeating against his skull _just say it, just say it, just say it,_ but before he could get a single word out the hotel room door swung open and Grimmy’s voice came ringing loudly through the room, “Harold, how you holdin’ up mate? Payne’s had me out all night, said he needed a drink and to talk, sat there for nearly two hours and all he does is drink four glasses of apple juice and ramble about cities he’d like to visit, oh,” he broke off as he noticed Louis, “Tommo, fancy runnin’ into you here.”

Louis coughed, scooching himself off the bed, “Er, yeah, just checkin’ in on Styles here, I’ve got to get going though, see you lads tomorrow.”

Just before the door fell shut behind him he heard a quiet, “Bye Lou” from Harry.

He knocked his head against the wall in the elevator, he was the stupidest man alive. Well, second stupidest maybe. He confronted the stupidest man alive when he got back to his hotel room, “Really Payno? Apple juice and travel tips? Smooth, mate.”

Liam’s face went red, “I told you I can’t drink, my-”

“Your kidney, I know,” Louis cut him off, “and I told you to suck his dick, much less suspicious,” Liam’s face stayed red and Louis sighed, “I’m fucking with you Payno.”

Liam smiled, “Oh, I knew that. So uh, I know you said no questions asked, but, did you get whatever you needed tonight?”

Louis sighed, falling backwards onto his bed, “Honestly, I have no fucking clue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I hoped you liked it, hopefully I'll be able to update again soon.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been awhile, but I finally have another chapter!

Louis didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. He’d seen his fair share of bad in life (his parents divorce, his mum’s second divorce, getting bullied into dropping drama in high school, nearly failing his A-levels, twice) and his fair share of good (all of his siblings births, his mum’s marriage to Dan, scoring his first goal for Man U), and never had he ever given luck of any kind of credit. However, coming off the Dortmund game, with Harry still fragile about his performance, Louis was tempted thank luck for the horrible storm that rolled into Beijing just as they were supposed to play Man City, canceling the game and sending the team back to the UK earlier than expected.

The flight back was less light-hearted than the flight in, though Harry still insisted on sitting together. This time instead of asking about Louis’ favorite Disney movie, or about his family, Harry was picking his brain on strategy and technique. After hours of picking apart play after play Louis groaned, “Look Murdock, let me give this to you as straight as I can, we can sit here for the next,” Louis glanced at the time, “six and a half fucking hours picking apart every possible scenario that could occur on the pitch, but it won’t make you a better striker,” Harry frowned but Louis pushed forward, “you are already a fucking incredible striker, maybe the best I’ve ever played with. All you need to learn is how to put all of yourself physically and mentally into the game without putting your emotions into the game.”

If possible, Harry’s frown deepened, “I don’t know if I can do that, I love football, that’s why I do it for a living.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “You’re allowed to love football, for fucks sake Curly I’m not telling you to stop feeling things. I’m just saying, on the field if you miss a goal you can’t get disappointed, angry, or shaken, because that affects how you play the rest of the game, you’ll just make more mistakes get more upset, it’s a self-defeating cycle.”

Harry grinned, “Has anyone every told you that you curse, like, a lot?”

Louis laughed, “Only me mum, and only around the kids, are you telling me you’re a child Murdock? Because if you are I will have to start censoring my advice.”

“Hey, ‘m an adult,” Harry pouted unconvincingly, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that definitely had absolutely no affect on Louis whatsoever.

Louis’d had a good amount of time to consider what almost happened in Harry’s hotel room, and he’d come to the conclusion that he had acted like an absolute idiot. He’d nearly risked his entire career and his friendship with Harry all because Harry paid him a simple compliment. He’d taken two cold showers and recommitted himself to not making a fucking fool of himself. Now, locked into a confined space for twelve hours sitting shoulder to shoulder with Harry, Louis was finding his convictions wavering. Luckily, Louis had an age old mantra he could always rely on: when in doubt, avoid the issue completely.

“Whatever you say Harold, now if you’re done shaking me down for advice, I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Harry allowed, only looking a little upset.

Louis considered that a win, all things considered.

 

It was hardly a week later when Louis found himself on another flight with Harry, and the rest of the team, of course, as they flew to Sweden for a preseason friendly against Galatasaray. The flight was much shorter this time, and Louis managed to get through it with no major incidents, other than the blush that may have appeared on his cheeks when Harry had commented, “You look unfairly good in these warm-ups, the blue brings out your eyes.” Otherwise, completely incident free.

Corden had, once again, preselected their roommates. Sharing a room with Niall may have meant constant temptation to eat junk food and get wasted but at least that was a temptation Louis could handle. Harry was rooming with Zayn, which normally would have Louis in a panic, but he knew Zayn didn’t talk to people any more than was necessary, and no matter how charming Harry could be, even he couldn’t crack Zayn. At least that’s what Louis thought until they filed out of the hotel the morning of the game and Louis found Zayn and Harry chatting like old friends.

“Oi, Malik, replacing me already mate?” Louis accused.

Zayn ignored him, but Harry grinned and slung his arm over Zayn’s shoulders, “Zee and I have really bonded, you know what they say, first you share a room, then you share a soul.”

Louis snorted, “First of all, his name is Zayn, acceptable nicknames are as follows: Malik, asshole, end of list. Second of all, Zayn doesn’t have a soul.”

Harry grinned, “This is why he’s left you for me, he’s starved for affection y’know.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Zayn hates affection.”

“Zayn hates being used as a pawn in your sorry excuse for flirtation,” Zayn finally claimed, shifting out from under Harry’s arm, “I’m going to go talk to Liam, he never uses me to get into anyones pants.”

“Not yet!” Louis warned as Zayn walked away, he turned back to Louis, “and for the record, that wasn’t me trying to get into your pants.”

“Me either,” Harry confirmed with a grin, before leaning forward, “when I’m trying to get into your pants, you’ll know.”

By the time they were taking the pitch against Galatasaray the blush still hadn’t faded from Louis’ cheeks. Harry however, had never looked more in his element. From the first touch Louis could tell that Harry was truly on form. Barely four minutes in Niall managed to wrestle the ball from Galatasaray and booted it up to Liam, who turned immediately and ran the ball up the side, crossing it beautifully over to Louis. Louis held his breath as the ball sailed across the pitch, he was in high coverage, closer to the goal than he would have liked, he wouldn’t have the space to ground the ball before taking the shot. As the ball ended it’s arc Louis leapt into a scissor kick sending the ball solidly into the back of the net. His landing, was, less than graceful, he fell to the ground in a heap, taking one of Galatasaray’s defenders with him. He popped back up quickly, unharmed, a wide grin stretching across his face, he was quickly surrounded by the team, and Harry made a point to grab him roughly around the shoulders and spin him on the spot, shouting, “What a goal, Faceman!”

Louis’ early goal gave the team a confidence, a consistency that felt palpable as the match continued. It was nearly ten minutes later before they had another chance, a corner kick. Louis lined up to take the corner, he was shooting into high coverage and as soon as his foot connected with the ball he knew it wouldn’t be a goal. They were able to keep the ball alive well enough for Greg to get in a solid cross to Grimshaw on the outside. But when Grimmy couldn’t connect with the shot the momentum was lost. Galatasaray recovered control of the ball, but were unable to turn it into anything. Louis finally wrestled the ball back at midfield and crossed it up to Greg, the ball bounced beautifully to his feet and Louis could already see the goal in his mind. Greg pivoted, passing the ball over to Harry. The pass was intercepted before Harry even had a chance to take possession. Less than five minutes later, Galatasaray won a free kick which they translated to an easy equalizer. Zayn, to his credit, threw his whole body into the save, but his hand fell just short. Two more corner kicks came to nothing and Zayn saved a close shot on goal. The team’s early confidence had waned significantly and Louis wasn’t surprised when a shot finally made it past Zayn and they found themselves down a goal. He was surprised when Harry sidled up to him at halftime and clapped him on the back, “Turn that frown upside down Lou, it’s a self-defeating cycle, remember?”

Louis grinned, shocked, “Ah, so you do listen.”

“Occasionally.”

Corden’s voice broke into their conversation, “Alright lads, this is a winnable game, you lot got complacent after Tomlinson’s early goal and you know better than that. I know this is just a friendly, but there is never an excuse to lose a winnable game, you know that.”

Beside Corden, Greg nodded, speaking up as well, “This next half is a fresh start, we’re only one down. The team is really starting to gel and I know we have this in us.”

The team re-took the pitch with a new fervor and barely two minutes pass before Louis finds himself moving the ball back up the field, Grimmy running just before him, Harry waiting across the field. He passed it up to Grimmy, who was nearly overtaken by a defender, Grimmy passed it back down to Louis, who waited just a beat for Grimmy to clear the defender before he shot it back up field. Grimshaw saved the ball just before it rolled out of bounds, crossing it over to Harry who despite being shadowed by a defender easily sunk it into the net. Louis reached Harry and pulled him into his side, ruffling his hair, “Nice shot Curly.”

Barely a minute or two later Louis found himself with the ball at his feet and a clear breakaway toward the goal, as he sped his way up the field toward the goal a defender managed to catch up, attempting to force him out, and just as Louis had edged around the defender, running nearly parallel to the goal, the keeper dove at his feet, tripping Louis, sending him flat onto his stomach. By the time he’d pulled himself back to his feet, they’d already been awarded the penalty. Liam patted his shoulder, “You alright mate?”

Louis grinned, “I’m fine Payno, takes more than a belly flop into the pitch to slow me down.”

Corden called for Harry to take the penalty and he shot Louis a panicked look, “He wants me to take the penalty?”

Louis smiled, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s, “Of course he does Curly, he knows nobody else could defend my honor like you.”

Louis isn’t sure if he imagined the blush that bloomed on Harry’s cheeks, but he knew he didn’t imagine Harry’s precise aim as he landed a solid kick on the ball and it flew, bounced off the far post and into the goal.

They were officially one up, and in the celebration, Harry hugged Louis tight and said, “Consider your honor defended,” Louis wasn’t sure which he was happier about.

Harry’s penalty had an energizing effect on the team, it wasn’t even five minutes later when Louis’ able to pass the ball up to Greg who quickly sent the ball soaring across the field where it found Grimshaw waiting to head the ball soundly into the back of the net. Harry wrapped Grimmy in a celebratory hug and Louis clapped him on the back, pretending that jealousy wasn’t driving knives into his stomach.  

It wasn’t much longer before Corden pulled Louis, Harry, Zayn and Greg from the pitch, sending out subs and clapping the boys on their backs, “Good game lads, take a rest.”

Louis didn’t always enjoy watching from the bench, however, when they were two goals up and had momentum on their side, he didn’t mind, not to mention the company on the bench had vastly improved from the previous season.

“You were good out there Harold,” Louis commented as they watched the game continue.

Harry smiled, a single dimple digging into his cheek, “Thanks, you were pretty good yourself.”

“Oh I know I’m good,” Louis informed him, “How else do you think I give such good advice? If I were shit, I’d give shit advice.”

“Who says you don’t give shit advice?” Harry countered, grinning.

“Your performance out there speaks volumes regarding the quality of my advice,” Louis informed him.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted, “that’s true.”

Louis frowned, “Aw, c’mon Styles, it’s no fun when you give in.”

Harry laughed and bumped Louis’ shoulder with his own, “That’s not true, we always have fun, even when we aren’t disagreeing.”

Louis opted to take a long drink from his water bottle instead of answering, and when United scored their fifth goal, effectively changing the conversation permanently, Louis considered it nothing less than a godsend.

 

As the team exited the bus back at their hotel, Corden made sure to leave them with a warning, “Great game lads, celebrate with a good night’s sleep, we have an early flight tomorrow and a game back home in just three days.”

After the team split from Corden in the lobby Niall shouted, “We can sleep when we’re dead lads, we kicked ass today, we deserve some fucking drinks!”

Louis had no intention of drinking when he followed the team to his and Niall’s hotel room, a few hours of being buzzed wasn’t worth being in less than ideal shape when he’s supposed to be impressing Corden on the field.  Unfortunately, all the good intentions in the world couldn’t withstand Harry Styles offering him a glass with a smile. Before he knew it, Louis was properly buzzed.

“Absolute legend match lads,” Niall was shouting while bouncing drunkenly on his bed, drink held like a trophy above his head, “yer all feckin’ legend!”

Sober Louis would have been beyond annoyed at this behavior, Buzzed Louis was laughing along from the other bed, leaning drunkenly into Harry’s broad shoulders. Suddenly his solid shoulder wall shifted underneath him and he found himself tumbling onto the mattress.

“Oi Curly, what’s the big idea?” he complained.

Harry laughed, his cheeks flushed from the booze, eyes glassy as he reached out and pulled Louis up off the bed, “C’mon Lou, I wanna go for a walk.”

Louis arched his brow, “A walk?”

Harry nodded, “A walk.”

Louis shrugged, “Alright then, lead the way Murdock.”

Harry grabbed him by the wrist and they stumbled down the hotel corridor, falling against each other for support. Eventually they found their way to the hotel’s indoor swimming pool. Harry pulled Louis towards the lounge chairs, “C’mon Faceman, let’s keep you away from the edge of the pool.”

Louis frowned, “What are you implying?”

Harry giggled, leaning into Louis’ shoulder, “That you’re drunk, and unsteady, and you could drown.”

“Excuse you Harold, I don’t know if you’re aware but I am a professional athlete, and I am deeply offended that you think I couldn’t hold my own in a hotel pool.”

Harry lifted his head from Louis’ shoulder, his nose centimeters from Louis’, “Then I apologize, you are very strong, and very coordinated, and I’m sure you could doggy paddle your way to the shallow end in case of emergency.”

“Thank you Harold.”

“It’s Harry.”

“That’s what I said.”

And then Harry’s lips we’re on Louis’, or maybe Louis’ were on Harry’s, Louis couldn’t be certain who moved first, all he knew was that they were together now and it was absolutely everything he’d been hoping for and more. He surged forward, tangling his hands in Harry’s curls, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

A deep moan escaped Harry’s lips and Louis pulled off, still cradling his face in his hands, “Fuck, Harry.”

Harry grinned, his lips dark, “Okay, your room or mine?”

Louis huffed out a breathless laugh, “Well my room is full of our drunken teammates…”

“Mine it is then,” Harry pulled Louis up off the lounge chair.

It took the entire trip to Harry’s room, plus the time to took for them both to get half undressed before Louis’ booze soaked brain managed to crank out a coherent thought, “Wait wait wait, Harry, wait,” he placed his hands on Harry’s unfairly hard chest and tried not to hate himself for what he was about to say, “Is this really a good idea?”

Harry stopped, “Uh, I think so, I like you, and I’m attracted to you, and there’s no one else in this room.”

Louis sighed, “We’re teammates, in like, the straightest sport on the planet-”

Harry snorted a laugh, “This isn’t even in the top five straightest sports on the planet.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Harry crowded back into his space, pressing a kiss into his throat, “but I’m not going to tell anyone, and you’re not going to tell anyone, so really, I can’t think of a good reason you shouldn’t just take me right now.”

Louis groaned, “You can’t talk like that Styles, honestly.”

Harry planted another kiss, this one on his jawline, “What are you going to do about it?”

So Louis grabbed him and hauled him onto the bed, “I’ll show you what I’ll do about it.”

 

When he woke the next morning Harry was still asleep, snoring lightly, his curls splayed across the pillow. Louis took a moment to bask in the sight before he was interrupted by the slight clearing of a throat coming from behind him.

He jumped before he turned to find Zayn, sitting upright in the bed across the room, “Holy shit mate, you scared the fuck out of me.”  

Zayn didn’t respond, just arched a brow and stared.

“Okay, I know what you’re thinking, but it just happened, it’s not a big deal.”

Zayn continued to stare.

“Zayn come on, we were drunk, really if you think about it, really this is all Niall’s fault, I wasn’t going to drink but that Irish fucker turned our hotel room into a fucking kegger.”

Nothing.  
Harry started to stir beside Louis on the bed and Louis shot Zayn a panicked look, Zayn in his infinite helpfulness shrugged.

“Morning,” Harry croaked, voice thick with sleep, he glanced over at Zayn across the room and grinned, “hey Zee, how was the party?”

“Alright, we broke a table, pretty sure Corden’s going to have a coronary.”

“Oh, you’ll speak to Harry, but not me?” Louis snapped.

“Yes.”

Harry laughed, rolling into Louis’ side, “It’s alright Lou, I’ll talk to you.”

“Barf,” Zayn stood up, “I’m going to go find breakfast, please confine all your fucking to Harry’s side of the room.”

“No promises, Malik!” Louis called after him.

The door slammed shut and Harry snuggled even closer, “You gonna make good on that threat Tomlinson?”

“Obviously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon. I'm really enjoying writing this story, I just haven't had a ton of free time lately.  
> Let me know what you thought! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hopefully I'll have another chapter up shortly!


End file.
